You Kill Me With Silence
by shellyduran
Summary: Dribble-drabble about getting over that first love and finding yourself. What happens when you see him again years later?


**You Kill Me With Silence**

Disclaimer: Stephenie owns Twilight. I own my memories.

This is an unbeta'd dribble-drabble exercise in an attempt to break the writer's block I've had for the past several months.

It's happened twice in twenty years. That first time was as we traversed the aisles of a home improvement store. We passed each other, two ships maneuvering through the wide canals of a goliath chain store. A sideways glance was all it took to confirm that you were as aware of my presence as I was of yours. The hair on my arms stood on end. Even without touching, the electricity was still palpable. I wondered why you were here. Had you moved back home after all that talk of how you'd make your way in the city? How I would just hold you back? How there was no future for you in this small isolated town surrounded by trees and rain.

My fiancé strolled next to me pushing our cart filled with the odds and ends of home repairs and maintenance, as blissfully unaware of our chance encounter as your wife and small child were. I turned my head slightly and met the full gaze of your blue eyes. My body consciously moved a step closer to Edward, stating quite loudly but without words that yes, there's someone who wants me. Somebody thinks I'm good enough. We never slowed and as I turned the corner, I took Edward's hand in mine and gave it a squeeze.

It was true. Jessica called, not a text, an actual phone call (I'm sure it was so she could hear my reaction) to tell me you'd moved back with your new family. She'd heard all the gossip, even that you'd married out of obligation because she was already carrying your child. Was it really that easy to trap you? Regardless, I never would've done so. Then just as quickly as you returned, six months later you left.

"Another job opportunity." Jessica once again chirped in my ear. I held the phone slightly away from my head, not wanting her false cheerfulness to ooze through and infect me. "His grandmother told my grandmother. They still play canasta together every Tuesday." I nodded even though she couldn't see me.

"Well, I'm sure Mike is happy. He never wanted to stay in Forks," I replied, careful to keep the emotion out of my voice. Even the slightest hint of sadness would be enough to start the infamous Jessica Stanley rumor mill: _Bella still isn't over Mike._ But I am. It took years for me to claw my way out of the depression but I finally did it once I realized that only I could make my happiness. I couldn't rely on anyone, least of all a boy, to provide it.

The second time happened this morning. It's a rare sunny summer Saturday and everyone in Forks wants to take advantage. The line outside the bakery stretched to the diner on the corner as we all patiently waited to get freshly made donuts and pastries before heading to First Beach. It's not until we're inside the door that I see you, ahead of me but behind her. You're already at the counter, waiting as your wife places her order. I wish I could say that you were aging ungracefully but you're not. Your hairline is intact, your stomach flat, your chin annoyingly singular and in place. Yes, you're older but still handsome. I glance down at my ratty tee and dollar store flip flops, wishing I'd bought that pretty beach wrap I'd seen and perhaps some better footwear.

I discreetly turn my phone over in my hand and text Angela. _I'm inadvertently stalking Mike._

Her reply is instantaneous. _Where? In Forks?!_

I relay the details with hurried fingers. Your back is to me and you have no idea I'm so close. I startle when the girl behind the counter shouts "NEXT!" because I realize that's me. I move forward doing my best to leave as much room as possible between us. It's no matter because you've seen me. You don't acknowledge me, or I you, but we both know we're closer than we've been in decades. I stand taller, bracing for that feeling of inferiority to hit… but it doesn't. I wait for the butterflies that always invaded my stomach when you were near… but they don't appear. I feel…nothing.

I place my order and wait. She turns and I almost react. While you're still handsome, the epitome of aging gracefully, she's not. The multiple chins, the sagging skin, the haggard face and I suddenly feel something- relief that I'm not her and also sadness for her. I escaped. I didn't settle for a selfish boy, instead I found a selfless man. I look around for my little sprite and catch her staring longingly at the fudge brownies. I can see your eyes following me but I don't care. I call to my baby girl and she skips over, brimming with the type of happiness only a child can have. So, now you know I've got my own family. She looks so much like me, there's no denying it, not that I ever would. I glance up and catch your eye. Am I imagining the wistful look? Your wife walks past me and you follow. I hug my little sprite close as you leave, never more confident in myself than now. You are my past and that's where you'll remain.


End file.
